


Cursed

by TazzyJan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub, M/M, Possible Dubious Consent, Spanking, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 14:11:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17830061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TazzyJan/pseuds/TazzyJan
Summary: Dean falls victim to a curse.I’ve had this languishing half-finished on my hard-drive for years.  Thought I’d finally wrap it up and post it.For Snow_Glory





	Cursed

Sam knelt, naked, in the middle of the motel room. His arms hung limply at his sides and his eyes were firmly fixed on the floor. He had learned, somewhat slowly, not to look up as his brother approached. Dean preferred him submissive and any show of defiance was always swiftly dealt with. Sam shuddered when he felt his brother move close and start to circle him. His cock grew hard and heavy at the thought of what all Dean might do. Ever since he was cursed three weeks ago, Dean had grown steadily more aggressive toward him until Sam had finally submitted to him completely.

Now Sam had a list of rules he lived by as he secretly searched for a way to end Dean's curse. Rule number one: No Clothing Allowed. As soon as they entered their motel room, Sam was to remove all of his clothing. Dean made sure to keep the heat up in the room to keep Sam from getting too cold. Rule number two: No Eye Contact. Once Dean ordered Sam to his knees, no eye contact was allowed unless Dean specifically instructed him otherwise. Sam had found that one very difficult at first, but he finally managed it after Dean had reddened his ass a few times. Rule number three: No Talking. This had been even harder for Sam than the no eye contact rule. He still had difficulty following it, though Dean seemed to understand and kept his punishments for this infraction lighter than most. Finally, rule number four: Remain Lubed At All Times. This one was really more for Sam's sake than Dean's. Dean had come up with this one after the second time he had actually injured Sam from taking him dry. Since Dean's patience, or lack thereof, wasn't likely to improve, he had insisted that Sam keep himself at least partially lubed and ready for him at all times.

Now Sam waited on his knees for his brother to decide just how he wanted to use him. It was never a matter of "if" any more. It hadn't been since the first week. Sam didn't hold it against Dean. He knew his brother had as little choice in this as he had. Besides that, Sam secretly enjoyed Dean's domineering attitude toward him. It was as if his brother had looked inside him and uncovered every perverse desire Sam had tried so hard to keep hidden. 

Sam could feel the want pouring off of Dean. He wanted to reach out to him but knew he had to wait. Dean would let him know what he wanted when he was ready and not a moment before. Sam always found waiting to be the hardest part. He preferred when Dean simply came at him, hard and fast, throwing him over the nearest flat surface and fucking him raw. Sometimes, though, Dean liked to toy with him and this was one of those times. Sam tried not to fidget as Dean continued his slow circle around him. He clenched his hands at his sides to keep from reaching for his straining erection. He trembled slightly when Dean stopped in front of him. He didn't need to look up to see the smirk on his brother's face. He could picture it clearly.

"Looks like little Sammy wants to play," Dean said, not bothering to hide the smile in his voice. He lifted his foot and dragged his boot along the underside of Sam's cock and balls, pulling a ragged groan from his brother. "Such an eager little slut."

Sam opened his mouth to beg then snapped it shut. Dean laughed as he watched Sam struggle not to break any of the _rules_. He almost wished his brother would slip so he could heat his ass up. _Then again, I don't really need an excuse,_ Dean thought. Decision made, Dean fisted his hand in Sam's hair and began pulling him toward one of the chairs. Dean made sure to move slowly enough so that he wasn't hurting Sam as his brother followed on his knees as quickly as he could manage.

Dean settled himself in the chair then pulled Sam across his lap. Sam whined softly and Dean rubbed his back soothingly. "Shhh..." he said. "You didn't do anything wrong, Sammy. This isn't a punishment. This is just because I want to."

Sam calmed at his brother's words, glad to know he had not angered Dean in some way. Now that he knew he wasn't being punished, he felt free to enjoy what was happening. It was strange. He hated it when Dean did this to punish him, but the few times Dean had done this simply for his pleasure had been amazing.

When the first blow fell, hard and painful across his ass, Sam cried out in surprise. Dean was using his hand and Sam's cry of pain quickly turned into a moan of pleasure. He loved when Dean would use his own hand on him, rubbing and caressing his ass after each painful slap.

Dean's cock grew as he began peppering Sam's ass with hard swats. Dean loved it when Sam pushed his ass higher, wanting what Dean gave him. There always came a point, though, when Sam stopped pushing into them and starting trying to avoid them. Dean always pushed him just a little bit further and this time was no exception.

"Arghhh!" Sam cried out loudly when Dean hit a particularly tender spot. He squirmed, trying to get away, but he was held firmly in place. He clamped his mouth shut to keep from crying out when Dean hit him there again, even harder than before, but couldn't stop the prickle of tears in his eyes.

When Dean brought his hand down again, it wasn't in a hard blow, but rather a gentle caress. He began kneading Sam's red cheeks with his hand, drawing soft whimpers of pain from his brother. "You look so good like this," Dean told him. "Your ass all nice and red for me."

Sam moaned at the compliment, relishing it. He loved pleasing Dean with his pain. He knew he would miss this when the curse was finally lifted, but for now, he would enjoy it as much as he could.

"So fucking hot," Dean continued. He pulled Sam from his lap and onto his knees in front of him. He reached out and wiped a lone tear from Sam's cheek and smiled at him for a moment, then undid his pants and pulled his hard cock out. "My beautiful Sammy. You can suck me now."

Sam leaned forward as soon as the words were out of Dean's mouth. Dean's hand rested lightly in his hair now, not trying to guide him at all. Sam took him in greedily, not stopping until his nose was pressed tight against Dean's jeans. He used his tongue along his Master's hard shaft, enjoying the moan of pleasure he heard. He kept Dean's cock buried in his throat until his brother pulled his head back. Dean began to guide him then, moving Sam's head back and forth almost gently. Sam relished the tenderness and set about pleasing Dean as best he could.

At last, Dean pulled Sam's mouth off of him and tilted his head back so he could see his face. The utter devotion shining in Sam's eyes tamped down the fire that roared through him. As long as Sam was like this, submitting to his every whim, Dean could control the urges within him. Looking down into Sam's upturned face, he smiled. "Who am I?" he asked Sam softly.

"Dean," Sam replied.

"Who am I?" Dean asked again, his voice as soft and gentle as before.

"My brother."

"Who am I?"

"My lover."

"Who am I?"

Sam hesitated, unsure what it was Dean wanted him to say. 

"Who am I?" Dean asked again, gently, when Sam failed to reply.

Closing his eyes, Sam said the only thing left he could think of, "My Master."

"Good boy," Dean praised him. "I am your Master. I own you, body, heart and soul. Don't I, Sammy?"

"Yes," Sam replied reverently.

Dean let go of his hair and allowed Sam to take him back into his mouth. He moaned as Sam suckled on his cock. He could feel his balls, full and heavy, begin to draw up. He waited until the last possible moment before pulling free from Sam's mouth, then simply watched as jet after jet of come shot out of his cock and landed on his brother's face.

Sam, for his part, simply held still, his mouth hanging open wide, as Dean covered him in his come. He felt his face redden in embarrassment, but he didn't flinch or try to move away. As humiliating as it was for Dean to come on his face, a part of Sam craved it, wanting to be marked by his brother in the basest of ways.

When he was finished, Dean rubbed his cock against Sam's open lips, smearing the last of his seed across them. The sight of Sam like this, on his knees, mouth open hungrily, covered in his spunk, was breathtaking. Tucking himself back in his pants, Dean looked down and saw Sam's cock was still full and hard, the head nearly purple and glistening with pre-come. 

"You want to come, baby brother?" Dean asked, smirking as he stood and took a step back from Sam.

"Please, Master," Sam begged, desperately. He felt like he was going to explode but he knew better than to come without permission.

Lifting his foot, Dean once more ran his boot along Sam's hard cock. He grinned wickedly as Sam shivered and began to rub a bit harder. "Come on my boot, Sammy," Dean told him.

With an anguished cry, Sam's body jerked as if electrocuted and he did just that. By the time he had finished, he was trembling and Dean's boot was covered in thick, white come. Knowing what was expected; Sam bent forward then and began to clean his brother's boot, licking his own come from it as Dean watched.

"You look so fucking hot like that," Dean whispered, his features going soft for a moment. 

********

Sam kept one eye on Dean as he worked on the laptop. He was supposed to be looking for their next job. In reality, he was searching for a way to end his brother's curse. He had to be careful, though. Dean had caught him at it once. The punishment that followed wasn't something Sam was likely to ever forget. In truth, Sam didn't really want to find a cure. He didn't want to lose this dominating lover, but he knew it isn't fair to Dean to leave him like this.

"Find anything?" Dean asked suddenly, making Sam jump.

"No-not yet," Sam replied as he quickly began to close the sites he had been searching and cover his tracks.

"You seem kinda nervous there, Sammy," Dean said as he got up from the bed and moved over to the small table his brother was working at. "You wouldn't be doing something you're not supposed to be, would you?"

"No, Sir," Sam replied. He kept his eyes down, avoiding eye contact, hoping Dean would take it as a sign of submission rather than guilt.

"That's good," Dean said as he came to stand directly behind Sam. He put his hands on Sam's shoulders and squeezed. "I'd be very disappointed if I had to punish you for that again."

"Yes, Sir. I know," Sam replied, fidgeting slightly as Dean stood over him.

"Are you lying to me, Sam?"

Sam swallowed thickly then gave a sharp nod. He couldn't continue to lie to Dean. Not like this, even though he knew the pain it would bring him. It wasn't so much the physical pain that had Sam worried. It was the knowledge that he had both disappointed his brother and lied to him about it.

Without a word, Dean lifted his hands from Sam's shoulders and turned away. He walked into the small bathroom, closing the door behind him. He had known Sam was lying from the beginning and it hurt. It also pissed him off and he had to take a moment to calm down before he ended up doing some serious damage to his little brother.

Sam sat where he was and stared after Dean. He had expected to be punished, not for Dean to simply walk away from him. He felt like throwing up as he realized how upset Dean must be with him. He pushed back his chair to get up when a loud thud sounded from the bathroom. All at once, Sam bolted toward the bathroom door and flung it open.

Inside was Dean with blood running down his hand, the broken mirror a silent testament to his white-hot anger. "Get out of here," he snarled, refusing to even look at Sam. He did, however, catch a glimpse of his brother's stricken face in what remained of the mirror and felt a twinge of remorse as Sam backed out of the room.

Once he had managed to calm down a bit, Dean washed the blood from his hand and inspected the wounds. Shallow cuts covered two of his knuckles. He could already see the bruises forming. Knowing he had to face Sam sooner or later, he took a deep, and hopefully calming, breath and walked back into the main room. He wasn't surprised to find Sam on his knees in the center of the room with several instruments laid out before him. 

Dean thought about simply leaving him there and going out for a while. He knew if he did, though, that Sam would spend the entire time wondering if he was coming back at all. As much as Dean felt he deserved it, he couldn't put Sam through that. Instead, he would have to deal with things now and hope he could keep his temper in check enough not to hurt Sam too badly.

Sam had laid out the paddle Dean had recently purchased, his leather belt, and the doubled-over power cord to the laptop. Dean looked at the items then looked at his brother. Sam's head was downcast, his body rigid and tense. Dean could tell he was fighting not to shake but fine tremors still wracked his body. Dean eyed the items Sam had laid out again, trying to decide which he should use. He was tempted to use all of them in the hope of making Sam understand just how bad of an idea it was to lie to him. In the end, he decided against it, not trusting himself to keep his anger under control.

"You think this is going to make me forgive you?" Dean asked, his voice rough and angry. "Do you honestly think you _deserve_ to be forgiven? Do you?"

Sam shook his head in a silent "no". His shoulders slumped and his body seemed to fold in on itself as his brother's cold words resounded in his head. He no longer fought to keep his shaking at bay. There was no need to.

Dean watched as Sam seemed to shrink right before his eyes. He felt some of his anger fade at the sight of his brother's shaking, huddled form. Steeling himself to Sam's pain, Dean reached down and fisted his hand in Sam's hair, jerking his head up and back roughly. "I should take your ass back to Stanford," Dean snarled, knowing even as he said it that he would never be able to.

Sam froze, too shocked to speak. Then, suddenly, he was begging Dean not to make him leave, promising him anything if he would just give him one more chance. "Please, Dean. Please!" Sam begged brokenly. Tears ran unchecked down his face as he stared up at Dean's angry visage. He couldn't believe things had come to this. He hadn't wanted to lie to Dean. He had only been trying to help him, but Sam knew how Dean reacted to betrayal and it was made all the worse because it was Sam who had betrayed him this time.

Dean, for his part, was having a hard time holding onto his anger as he watched Sam come apart. He had never seen such a look of abject terror on Sam's face before and it kicked every protective instinct he had into overdrive. "Hush, Sam," Dean said, rubbing his thumb over Sam's lips to silence him. 

"Please," Sam continued to beg. "I'm sorry. I never meant to betray you. I'll do anything..."

"I said _hush_ , Sam," Dean repeated, a bit more harshly. He watched Sam snap his mouth closed, his eyes still staring at him fearfully. "I'm going to make you regret ever even thinking about lying to me. I promise you, by the time I'm done, you'll never do it again."

Sam swallowed thickly, a cold knot of fear settling in his stomach. He remembered the punishment he had earned the last time he had defied Dean. This, however, would be much worse and he knew it.

Tightening his fist in Sam's hair, Dean reached down and picked up the paddle. Without a word, he began dragging Sam toward the bed. “Face down, ass up,” Dean ordered. “Arms and legs spread-eagle.”

As soon as Dean let go of his hair, Sam crawled onto the center of the bed. He laid down exactly as Dean had ordered him to, face down with his arms and legs pointing toward the four corners of the bed. He half expected Dean to bind him in place. He doubted if he would get that lucky, though. His Master always insisted on his surrender during his punishment. Tying him down would take that away.

“You lied to me,” Dean said as he paced at the foot of the bed where Sam couldn’t see him. “And you went behind my back. Again. I could understand that, I suppose. You never were one to give up even if it was for your own good.”

“Sir...” Sam tried, his voice trembling. 

“I told you to be quiet,” Dean snapped. He took a deep breath and reined his anger back in before continuing. “Now like I said, I can understand you going behind my back with your little research project, but what I can’t abide is your disrespect.”

“Sir, no,” Sam said, going so far as to start to push himself up from the bed before Dean’s hand slammed down between his shoulders forcing him flat. 

“You. Lied. To. Me.” Dean enunciated each word, driving them like knives into Sam’s heart. He knew he was being harsh, much harsher than he meant to, but he was hurt by Sam’s lies and he was having a hard time letting that hurt go.

“Yes, Sir,” Sam said softly, shame making his stomach clench painfully. It was true. He had lied to Dean and he deserved everything he got. He only hoped he could withstand his punishment enough to get his lover to forgive him.

As Dean continued to pace, he considered the paddle in his hand. They had used this a few times before in both play and punishment. For some reason, he didn’t want to use it now. No, this time needed to be something else. Something special. Setting the paddle aside, he picked up the doubled over power cord and swished it through the air. 

Oh yes, this would do nicely. He had never used anything like this on Sam before so there were no memories to taint by its use. And every time Sam plugged his laptop in it would remind him of this night and the cost of trust.

Dean snapped the cord through the air again, giving Sam a brief warning before bringing it down hard and fast across his asscheeks. He was a bit surprised when Sam jerked hard and cried out at the first blow. Apparently, the doubled over cord was quite effective.

Sam writhed on the bed, doing his best to keep his arms and legs spread wide. He had a death grip on the sheets and the muscles in his legs were bunched and corded with tension. He had clamped his mouth shut after the first blow but by the fifth he was crying out again, unable to keep the pain inside. 

Sam couldn’t believe the pain he was in. Nothing had ever hurt this badly before. Dean had punished him in the past but never this severely. It was then that Sam truly realized how badly he had messed up. Dean, his Master, was furious with him and he had every right to be.

Dean had meant to do twenty. He knew by two that wasn’t an option. When he laid the tenth stripe down he stopped, throwing the cord back across the room toward their gear. Sam’s ass was littered with dark red lines. A few looked like they would have broken the skin if Dean had hit him any harder. 

Looking his brother over, Dean watched as he shook and moaned on the bed. His entire body was rigid with either pain or the expectation of it. Sighing, Dean rubbed a hand over his face and went to fish the salve out of his pack.

Dean took the salve over and carefully sat down on the bed beside Sam. He was mindful not to move the bed too much, knowing even that would cause his brother more pain. He could hear Sam sobbing into the blanket beneath him and it made him want to pull him into his arms and hold him until all the hurt went away. 

“Easy, Sammy,” Dean said and placed a calming hand in the middle of his back far away from any of the lash marks he had laid down. “It’s just me. I’m gonna put something on your ass to take some of the sting out.”

“N-n-n-n-no,” Sam stuttered, raising his tear-streaked face from the mattress. “I deserve it. I deserve to hurt for what I did.”

“No,” Dean told him as he leaned down and placed a single kiss on Sam’s forehead. “Your punishment is over. You paid your penance.”

“But...”

“Who makes the rules, Sam?” Dean asked gently.

“You do,” Sam whispered.

“That’s right, I do. And I say your punishment is over. Now try to relax while I put the salve on. After that, we can rest together for a little while.” Dean was glad Sam was lying facedown on the bed because every time he flinched under his fingers as he applied the salve, Dean winced. As much as he knew Sam needed to be shown his place from time to time, he abhorred hurting his brother.

By the time Dean was finished, Sam was mewling softly. He was no longer trying to get away from Dean’s gentle fingers but lay lax beneath them. He still trembled off and on but he tried to remain as still as possible for his Master. 

“There, all done,” Dean said as he set the salve on the bedside table and stretched out next to Sam. He pulled the other man toward him as gently as he could until Sam was laying half on him with his head pillowed on his chest. “I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay. You can cry if you need to.”

“No, Master,” Sam said, sniffing quietly. “I’m okay now.” 

“You’re not,” Dean replied, “but you will be. Sam, I won’t have you defying me like this.” He thought long and hard about what Sam had done. Not the lying but what he had lied about. He realized if he was in Sam’s place, if he was the one that thought his brother was under some curse, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to end it. 

“Mast-...”

“So, new rule,” Dean continued running a soothing hand up and down Sam’s back as he spoke. “One hour a day. You get one hour every day to spend in any way you want. If you choose to spend it researching this curse you think I’m under, that’s your business. But you will not _ever_ lie to me again. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Master.” 

********

Sam couldn’t believe it. He had found it. He had actually found the counter-curse to cure Dean. It had taken him six long months. The longest six months of his life, but also the most pleasurable. It was enough to give him second thoughts about trying to cure his brother after all.

In the end, however, Sam knew he couldn’t just leave Dean like this. This wasn’t something his brother would want, not if he was in his right mind. That made it his responsibility to do the right thing. Even if it did end up costing him the most fulfilling relationship he’d ever had. 

It took him another week to get everything together that he needed. It was a week spent pleasing his Master in any way he could think of. The nights were especially poignant for he knew his Master would no longer sleep curled around him once Dean was cured. 

Knowing he needed to get on with it if he was ever going to, Sam waited until Dean was deep asleep then slipped from their bed and into the bathroom. Closing and locking the door behind him, Sam laid out the items he would need and drew the ritual circle. In ten minutes, it was done.

When Sam finally emerged from the bathroom, he found his brother sitting groggily on the side of their bed. There was only one bed in the room, and Sam suddenly felt awkward as he realized he was standing in the bathroom doorway completely naked.

“Sammy? What’s going on?” Dean asked, his eyes taking in his brother and quickly sliding away as unfamiliar images of Sam in the throes of passion assailed him.

“What do you remember?” Sam asked in reply, making no move to either come closer or cover himself.

“I was... Did I...?”

“Master?” Sam called carefully only for Dean to recoil in horror. His eyes shot to his brother’s and Sam felt his heart break at the rejection he saw there. Swallowing thickly, refusing to cry over something that should never have been, he stood his ground. “Looks like it worked.”

“I was cursed,” Dean said flatly as memories of the last seven months flashed before his eyes. He saw his brother naked, on his knees, his head bowed in submission. He saw Sam servicing him, catering to his every whim no matter how sick or depraved. He saw himself whipping his baby brother, making him cry in pain, for doing nothing more than trying to help him. My God, what kind of monster had he become?

“Yes,” Sam finally managed. He strode over to his duffle bag and pulled out a pair of underwear he had not worn in months. He was suddenly grateful that Dean had let him keep them rather than insisting on him throwing them all away.

“Sam. Sammy. I’m so sorry,” Dean said, his heart constricting at what he had done.

“Don’t,” Sam said sharply as he removed the collar from his throat and threw it into his duffle. “It’s over now. That’s all that matters.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. He could tell that Sammy was hurting but he wasn’t sure exactly why. The curse had been lifted. His brother should be happy, yet he was anything but. To make matters worse, he felt a pang of longing for the lover he had lost. 

Without a word, Dean stood and began to pack. If nothing else, they needed a new room - one with two beds in it. He hoped that maybe once they got away from the scene of the crime as it were that the tension between them would ease. 

With no case, Dean was unsure where to go. Not wanting to go back they way they had come, he pointed the Impala north and put his foot down. Eight silence-filled hours later, they rolled into Milwaukee, WI. Dean figured it was a big enough city that they ought to be able to find something to hunt. 

Sam was silent as the Impala ate up the miles between where they had been and where ever they were going. He had no idea and didn’t really care. Dean was cured. He was supposed to be happy damn it! Yet all he could recall was the shameful way his brother had looked away from him as if the very sight of him naked and collared was an affront. 

He was a little bit surprised when they pulled into a motel just inside of Milwaukee. He would have thought Dean would have preferred some little hole in the wall place but maybe not. Maybe his brother wanted the kinds of things only a big city could offer. The thought made Sam sick but if that was what his Master - no, Dean! - wanted there wasn’t much he could do about it.

They holed up in their motel for a week, both men doing their level best to avoid so much as eye contact with the other. Sam thought he was going to explode if something didn’t give soon. Aimlessly surfing his laptop, he found an ad for a club. A leather club. The picture on the homepage showed a buff man with close-cropped hair wearing a leather jacket. The image jolted through Sam like an electrical charge and his cock gave a twitch of interest.

Maybe this was what he needed to get Dean out of his system. He was sure he could find someone there willing to take him in hand and, if he couldn’t, there were certainly other clubs he could try. It wasn’t what he wanted. It would never be what he wanted, but maybe it would be enough so he could figure out how to relegate himself to being strictly Dean’s brother again.

Sam waited until Dean was in the shower before quickly donning his tightest jeans, most revealing shirt. He hesitated when he saw his collar in his bag, running his finger down the supple leather longingly. Suddenly angry, he shoved the collar down into the deepest reaches of his duffle and zipped it shut. After scribbling a hasty note to his brother, he checked his wallet and left.

********

The club was called Collars and Cuffs. Sam shook his head at the name but at least it got its point across. Giving his attire a quick once over, he made his way inside. The scent of leather hit him like a slap in the face and he nearly staggered at the intensity. Breathing deeply, he made his way to the bar for a beer and began surveying the landscape.

From what he could tell, there was a fairly even mix of Doms and subs in the club. That was good. The last thing he wanted to do was share and was in no mood to compete. He wanted his Dom’s attention all to himself.

As Sam nursed his beer, letting his hunter personae fade to the back of his mind, he caught sight of a man slowly approaching him. Sam played his part, kept his eyes cast downward, glancing toward and then away from the other man.

“I’m Mike,” the man said as he sidled up to Sam, pressing his front against the side of Sam’s body. He reached out and tipped Sam’s chin up with a finger, his brown eyes raking over the younger man’s face appraisingly.

Mike was older than Sam by a good ten years. Sam didn’t mind. He liked his men older. His hair was dark and short, the sides cropped close to his head. He was a few inches shorter than Sam but most men were. The leather jacket he wore was old and worn but well-maintained making it clear that Mike took care of the things that were his.

Sam introduced himself softly, meeting the man’s eyes per his silent request. He wasn’t Dean, but he was close enough and Sam felt his body give an interested twitch. When the man leaned in even closer, pressing them together from chest to groin, Sam had to bite back a moan.

“Don’t do that, pretty,” Mike said as he tugged Sam’s bottom lip from between his teeth. “I want to hear you.”

“Ye-yes, Sir,” Sam replied.

“Good boy,” Mike smiled. He ran a possessive hand up and down Sam’s chest. The skin tight t-shirt making it feel like Mike was touching his bare skin. “So pretty. I bet you fuck like a dream.”

********

Dean scanned the inside of the club looking for any sign of his brother. He had come out of the shower to find their motel room empty and a note from Sam saying he was going ‘out clubbing’ for the night and not to wait up for him. 

Dean had felt a wave of possessiveness wash over him that had him crushing the note in his fist. Not bothering to try to rationalize why he was feeling that way, Dean quickly threw on some clothes. Knowing how his brother’s mind worked, Dean checked his laptop and found three possibilities. Each of them made his stomach clench in a combination of anger and fear. Sammy had no business being anywhere near places like these. He had no idea of the kind of men that frequented them.

_Well, he hadn’t until seven months ago when Dean had turned their whole world upside down thanks to a curse. But Sammy couldn’t really want that, could he?_

This was the third and last club on Dean’s list and he was starting to grow anxious. What if Sam had already left with someone? That thought made him want to retch but he forced it back down as he scanned the crowd for his brother.

A tidal wave of relief nearly swamped him when he spotted Sam’s too tall form leaning against the bar. On the heels of that relief was white-hot rage as he noticed the man pressed against his brother, the strangers’ s hand running over Sam’s lean chest as if he owned him. 

Shoving his way angrily through the crowd, Dean stopped in front of the pair. He saw Sam’s eyes widen in surprise then Dean was grabbing his arm in a bruising grip. “We’re leaving,” he snarled.

“I think your boy here wants to stay,” Mike said, pushing away from Sam and toward Dean. He didn’t know who this guy was but he wasn’t going to let him take the hottest little sub he’d seen in ages without a fight.

“And I don’t think I give a fuck,” Dean shot back, his eyes hardening in a way they normally only did when hunting. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“Sam, I’ve got a room upstairs all ready to go,” Mike said, ignoring Dean’s warning. “Tell this guy to fuck off and come with me. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

“Yes, I will,” Sam said, shaking his head in apology. He felt Dean’s hand tighten even more and knew there would be a hand shaped bruise around his bicep come morning. Dropping his eyes, he let Dean practically drag him from the club and out to the Impala before he brother slammed him up against it roughly.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Dean demanded hotly, shaking Sam hard. “What’s the matter with you, huh? You _miss_ being treated like someone’s bitch?” Dean was so angry he was shaking with it. It wasn’t directed at Sam, though but rather himself. He had done this. He had turned his little brother into this. 

Needing to get Sam back to their motel, Dean opened the passenger side door and shoved him inside. He pulled out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. 

“Talk to me, damn it!” Dean growled as he drove. “So what? You’re just gonna throw yourself at the first leather freak you find? You have no idea what he would have done to you! He would have used you like a piece of meat then thrown you out when he was done. That fucker wouldn’t have cared about you. He would have hurt you!”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe that’s what I wanted him to do?” Sam said softly as they pulled up in front of their motel, his voice calmer than he expected it to be.

Dean didn’t say a word as he slammed his door and hurried around to Sam’s side of the car. He grabbed him by the arm again, ignoring the wince of pain, and drug him out. Not releasing his grip, he unlocked their motel room and all but threw him inside. Only when it was locked behind them did Dean turn to face his brother.

Sam could feel the anger pouring off of Dean and it took every bit of his willpower not to drop to his knees and beg forgiveness. He hadn’t meant to make him angry but he truly hadn’t known what else to do. Dean might not have caused this need in him but he had certainly awakened it and now Sam didn’t know how to put the genie back in the bottle.

Dean tried to force himself to calm down as he regarded his now silent brother. He knew Sam had meant what he’d said in the car, at least to some degree. But just where did that leave them? Because Dean wasn’t about to watch his baby brother give himself to men like that, men that would just use and abuse him then throw him away like so much garbage. 

“Sam, you don’t really want this,” Dean tried to reason one final time. “I know you think you do...”

“Don’t kid yourself, Dean,” Sam scoffed. “I was like this long before you got cursed. I’m sorry I disgust you, but don’t expect me to be celibate just because you don’t want me anymore.”

“Fine! You want it, you got it,” Dean spat angrily. In two strides, he was across the room and gripping Sam by the hair. Yanking back hard, he forced Sam to first bare his neck then fall to his knees. He knew that if his brother wanted out of the hold he could manage it easily, but that wasn’t what Sam wanted. 

“You need someone to take control, is that it?” Dean snarled. “You like it rough? You fucking liked the way I treated you when I was cursed? Well guess what, Sam? I don’t need to be cursed to put a sub in his place.”

Still holding Sam by the hair, Dean used his other hand to free his hard cock. He pressed the leaking head at Sam’s lips and gasped when Sam opened his mouth, sucking him in without being told. He let Sam suck him for a few seconds before he tightened his grip and began to fuck his mouth. His boy needed to learn his place and Dean was more than happy to teach it to him. 

As angry as he still was, it didn’t take long for Dean to slam his cock all the way down Sam’s throat and come. He could feel Sam’s throat spasming around his cock and groaned in pleasure. Only when he was completely spent did he pull away allowing his brother to drag in a few ragged breaths.

Dean gave him a moment to come back to himself then nudged his leg with one booted foot. “Have you forgotten the rules already?” Dean smirked, though his eyes were still hard. He had come entirely too close to losing his brother tonight and it had scared him badly.

“No, Sir,” Sam gasped then began to quickly strip out of his clothes. 

“Better,” Dean said once Sam was kneeling naked on the floor before him. He tried not to wince at that darkening bruise on his brother’s arm. “But you’re still missing something.”

“I... It’s...” Sam stammered unsure what to say.

“It’s what?” Dean pressed. 

“It’s in my duffle, Sir. I... I didn’t think you wanted me to wear it any longer.”

“When I want you to think, I’ll tell you,” Dean snapped as he strode over to Sam’s duffle and rooted around until he found his collar. Moving back over to Sam he pushed his head downward and quickly buckled the supple leather in place. Just the act of putting his collar back on Sam was enough to have his spent cock stirring once more. “Take it off again and you won’t sit for a week. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Sam replied quickly. His stomach was swooping as warring emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Here was the lover he thought he had lost yet he couldn’t help but feel guilty, as though he was pushing Dean into something he didn’t really want.

“Look at me,” Dean ordered and was pleased when Sam instantly obeyed. “I’m going to ask you this one last time and never again. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“More than anything,” Sam replied honestly. “But only if you do, too.”

Dean gave him a curt nod and briefly stroked his cheek. “Get up on the bed, knees and elbows. I want that ass in the air.”

Sam scrambled to obey, settling himself in the middle of the bed and spreading his knees wide just the way Dean liked him. He realized that he hadn’t prepared himself at all and started to say something then stopped. If his Master wanted him prepared then he would do so. His only concern was his Master’s pleasure.

Dean quickly stripped and grabbed the lube from the bedside dresser. He could tell Sam wasn’t prepared. Hell, he wasn’t even slicked. He felt sick again at how badly his brother could have been hurt and vowed then and there that no one but him would ever have the privilege of hurting Sam like that.

Naked, Dean moved onto the bed between his brother’s spread thighs. His cock was half hard again already. He slicked two of his fingers and shoved them inside roughly, making Sam cry out at the unexpected intrusion. Dean ignored him and continued to ream his ass, pleased that although Sam screamed he didn’t try to pull away. 

Sam moaned in pleasure/pain as his brother brutally finger fucked him. It was so intense, feeling Dean’s fingers inside him again, forcing him to take it. All too soon, Sam felt those fingers leave and knew Dean was getting ready to fuck him. They both knew he wasn’t stretched nearly enough but neither of them cared. Sam belonged to Dean and it was time for both of them to reaffirm that.

“Push up onto your hands,” Dean directed as he liberally slicked his cock. Once Sam was in place, Dean parted his cheeks and pressed the head of his glistening cock against Sam’s wet hole. Gripping his hips hard, he began to push in, not stopping until he was seated all the way inside of the other man.

Sam couldn’t help but moan as Dean forced his way inside of him. He was shaking as he tried not to drop to his elbows. Once Dean had bottomed out inside of him, his brother stopped and held still for a moment before slowly pulling back only to ram inside him once more.

Dean’s moan of pleasure was drowned out by Sam’s scream of pain. It felt like Dean had rammed his whole arm inside of him rather than just his cock. For Dean, the way Sam’s body rippled around him, trying to fight the intrusion, just made him want to fuck him harder. 

Still holding Sam’s hip with one hand, he reached forward with the other and grabbed Sam by the hair. Jerking his head back, he forced Sam’s body to bow, driving Dean’s cock even deeper and making Sam moan weakly.

Gripping tightly to both hip and hair, Dean set a punishing rhythm, fucking in and out of his brother’s body with brutal intensity. Dean didn’t bother with Sam’s cock and Sam knew better than to try to touch it himself. If Sam wanted to come he would do it like this.

“Dean... Dean...” Sam moaned as his brother pounded him relentlessly.

“You’re _my_ whore, cock-slut!” Dean snarled as he slammed in particularly hard. “Do I need to get it tattooed on your ass for you to understand that?”

“No, Sir. No, Sir. No, Master,” Sam gasped over and over. “Yours. Only yours. Only ever yours.”

“Then come!” Dean ordered, his own release only seconds away. He was rewarded with a weak scream on Sam’s part as his body began to jerk, his hot channel tightening on Dean’s cock as he did as his Master bid.

To feel Sam coming beneath him was the last impetus for Dean. Slamming in as hard as he could, he held Sam in place and began to come, his seed filling his brother’s tight ass as his balls tried to turn themselves inside out. 

By the time it was done, both men were panting as if they’d run for miles. Dean carefully eased out of Sam then pulled him onto his side on the bed away from the mess he had made. Dean thought for a second about grabbing a washcloth to clean them up then decided against it in favor of curling around his brother and holding him. 

It may not be how he had intended things to go, but it was what they both needed. And Dean would be damned if propriety or society or any damn thing else was going to keep him from giving his little brother what he needed most.

End.


End file.
